IRLF 


GIFTS & 
GIVERS 


MARGARET 
COLLIER, 
GRAHAM 


GIFT   OF 


\\ 


^7<au  V 


Margaret     Collier     Graham 

Gifts  and  Givers 


excellent 


GIFTS  andGIVERS 

A  Sermon  for  All  Seasons 


Margaret  Collier  Graham 


MORGAN  SHEPARD  COMPANY 
NEW  YORK-  SAN  FRANCISCO  -1QO6 


TKXT   AND 
DECORATIONS  COPYRIGHTED 

BY 

MORGAN  SHEPARD  CO. 
MCM  VI 


Gifts  and  Givers 


41 J 468 


FRIEND 

long  since  dead  used 
to  say  to  me,  :'It  is 
an  excellent  thing 
to  stop  now  and  then 
and  size  things  up." 
The  mind  of  the  most  logical  thinker 
goes  so  easily  from  one  point  to  another 
that  it  is  not  hard  to  mistake  motion  for 
progress.  One  innocent,  even  com 
mendable,  action  in  our  modern  life 
leads  so  naturally  to  another  apparently 
equally  innocent  or  commendable  that, 
before  we  are  aware,  we  are  involved,  by 
what  we  really  believe  to  be  good  im 
pulses,  in  hopeless  complexities.  These 
have  grown  up  about  all  our  institu- 


G   I   F  T  S 


tions,  religious  and  secular.  In  some 
cases  they  have  totally  obscured  the 
original  intent.  About  no  one  observ 
ance  have  they  multiplied  more  danger 
ously  than  about  Christmas.  Just  why 
humanity  should  agree  upon  a  season, 
or  a  day,  for  being  kind  is  past  finding 
out.  It  is  an  accretion  of  the  ages. 
The  best  we  can  say  of  it  is  that  we 
should  like  to  be  as  generous  all  the 
year;  but  this  is  impossible.  Will  the 
receiver  accept  as  a  symbol  of  our  feel 
ings  toward  him  this  token  of  our  heart 
felt  desire  for  his  perpetual  happiness 
and  prosperity?  If  one  never  loses 
sight  of  this  desire,  no  matter  how  much 
or  how  little  he  gives,  he  is  sure  of  a 


^     GIVERS^ 

merry  Christmas.     And  why  not  have 
a    merry    Christmas?        Sickness     and 
death  may  prevent  it,  but  nothing  else 
should.     I  for  one  have  no  patience  with 
those  who  allow  their  own  folly  to  des 
troy  the  delight  of  a  festival.     The  man 
or  woman  who  says  coarse  and  sordid 
things     about     "annual    swaps"     says 
them  from  a  coarse  and  sordid  soul,  and 
may  heaven  protect  you  and  me  from 
his  gifts  and  his  thanks;  both  are  of  the 
earth  earthy.     There  is  but  one  lower 
depth  than  the  saying  of  such  things 
and  that  is  the  thinking  of  them.     For 
tunately,  many  who  say  them  do  not 
think   them.          Those  who  give  gifts 
because  they  are  "expected"  would  do 


GIFTS 


well  to  examine  themselves  rigorously 
lest  they  be  found  cherishing  some  sor 
did  expectation  of  their  own.  The  key 
to  most  of  the  evils  we  notice  in  our 
neighbors  may  be  found  in  ourselves — 
this  thought  ought  to  make  us  slow  to 
mention  his  faults  if  it  does  nothing 
more.  The  mystery  attending  the 

gifts  of  Santa  Claus  has  saved  child 
hood  from  much  that  is  commercial. 
Poor  people  (and  by  this  I  mean  only 
those  who  think  less  of  themselves  for 
having  little:  the  poor  in  spirit)  who 
destroy  the  self-respect  and  dignity  of 
their  children  by  constant  reference  to 
worldly  belongings  are  for  once  denied 
the  privilege  of  thus  belittling  them- 


G  I  V  E  R  S 


selves.  They  cannot  say  of  Santa 
Claus,  who  is  not  reported  by  Dun, 
"  Times  are  very  dull  this  year,  my 
dears,  and  you  must  not  expect  much. 
Poor  papa  has  to  work  hard  to  buy  your 
shoes  and  stockings  and  school  books, 
and  you  must  not  complain  if  your  doll 
and  wagon  are  not  as  nice  as  the  chil 
dren's  next  door.  Their  father  is  rich 
and  does  not  have  to  work  as  papa 
does,  '  '  thus,  under  cover  of  pious  exhor 
tation,  instilling  into  the  white  souls 
committed  to  them  their  first  lesson  in 
worldliness.  Santa  Claus  has  no  com 
mercial  standing.  Like  Providence,  he 
bestows  his  gifts  with  reckless  disregard 
of  circumstances,  at  least  to  the  childish 


GIFTS 


imagination.  And  should  we  not  thank 
what  gods  may  be  for  this  unconscious 
faith  of  childhood  in  the  good  intent  of 
the  world?  There  are  not  many  things 
to  send  us  to  our  knees  in  adoration, 
but,  among  the  few,  are  not  the  small 
boy  hugging  his  ten-cent  tin  horse  and 
the  tiny  maid  her  cheap  doll,  without 
question  concerning  their  value,  never 
wondering  for  an  instant  why  Santa 
Claus  should  bring  the  cheap  toys  to 
their  cottage  and  the  expensive  ones  to 
the  big  house  next  door  ?  He  gives  from 
the  fullness  of  his  heart  and  they  accept 
from  the  fullness  of  theirs.  And  when 
you  and  I  cease  to  give  and  accept  in 
this  way  we  have  lost  our  hold  on 


^      G  I  V  E  R  S 


Christmas  forever.  You  have  lost  it, 
you  say.  Then  let  it  go.  Do  not 
travesty  it,  but,  in  the  name  of  human 
ity,  do  not  interfere  with  the  happiness 
of  better  and  simpler  folk.  Do  not  lay 
the  blame  on  others  which  belongs  only 
to  yourself.  ''Christmas  has  become 
so  worldly,"  you  say,  "so  entirely  com 
mercial  that  it  were  better  abolished.  I 
am  tired  to  death,  and  nothing  accom 
plished.  "  If  you  have  made  that  a 
grievous  burden  which  should  have 
been  a  delight,  the  fault  is  yours.  If 
you  have  worn  yourself  out  in  a  joyless 
effort,  blame  yourself,  not  the  Day.  Of 
course  you  are  tired,  but  if  you  have 
given  pleasure  it  is  that  weariness  in 


GIFTS 


well  -doing  which  is  no  more  like  pain 
than  the  heartache  of  sympathy  is  like 
heart  disease.  "But,"  you  say,  "I  had 
too  much  to  do.  I  had  to  embroider 
that  nightgown-case  for  Belinda  because 
I  knew  she  would  expect  something." 
If  Belinda  expected  something,  was 
not  that  an  excellent  reason  for  dis 
appointing  her?  No  one  has  a  right  to 
expect  anything  at  Christmas.  It  should 
be  a  day  of  unexpected  and  unlooked- 
for  blessings,  which  drop  as  the  gentle 
dew  from  heaven.  A  young  woman 
told  me  not  long  ago  that  all  her  child 
ish  life  she  had  wanted  a  doll-  carriage, 
which  by  some  strange  family  oversight 
she  had  never  received.  Every  Christ- 


<£i£  G  I  V  E  R  S 


mas  she  hoped;  but  the  doll-carriage 
always  went  to  other  children,  and  at 
night  she  shed  a  few  tears  on  her  little 
pillow  and  bravely  looked  forward  to 
next  Christmas.  As  she  talked  I  could 
not  but  feel  that  she  was  better  and 
sweeter,  not  perhaps  because  of  this  early 
disappointment  so  much  as  because  of 
her  dignity  in  bearing  it  without  a  mur 
mur  when  she  knew  so  well  that  a  very 
faint  murmur  would  have  brought  the 
realization  of  her  wish.  She  wanted  it, 
but  not  if  she  must  ask  for  it.  Which 
raises  the  question  whether  prayer  is  not 
after  all  rather  undignified,  a  covert  in 
sult  to  the  wisdom  of  the  Almighty. 
I  knew  a  woman  who  counted  it 


GIFTS 


among  her  holiday  pleasures  to  go  over 
the  list  of  her  acquaintances  and  select 
some  one  who  could  not  by  any  possi 
bility  " expect"  a  gift  from  her,  and 
send  her  some  trifling  expression  of 
good  feeling.  She  never  repeated  her 
self,  and  the  notes  of  surprise  and 
pleasure  she  received  were  a  source  of 
unmixed  delight.  If  the  writers  had  the 
bad  taste  to  send  her  a  gift  the  follow 
ing  year  she  wrote  a  note  of  thanks  and 
the  episode  ended.  Never  under  any 
circumstances  send  a  present  merely  in 
exchange  for  one.  This  rule  carefully 
followed  would  rob  Christmas  of  its 
commercial  aspect  and  restore  it  to  its 
rightful  place  at  once.  Allow  your 


neighbor  the  cheerful  experience  of 
sending  you  a  gift  without  humiliating 
her  by  thought  of  return.  Presumably, 
she  wanted  to  make  you  happy  and  in 
so  doing  found  her  own  delight.  Do 
her  the  honor  of  thinking  so  at  least. 
If  Christmas  is  commercial,  women 
are  largely  to  blame.  Men  and  children 
are  guiltless.  There  is  an  unsullied  sim 
plicity  in  men  in  this  respect  which 
goes  to  my  heart.  I  do  not  suppose 
there  is  a  man  in  our  midst  who  is  "ex 
pecting"  a  cravat-case,  or  a  shaving- 
pad,  or  an  ivory-backed  hand-mirror, 
next  December,  and  his  surprise  and  joy 
on  receipt  of  these  useful  articles  will  be 
one  of  the  prettiest  things  in  life.  And 


GIFTS 


then  the  artless  way  in  which  he  buys 
gifts  !  The  sudden,  even  spasmodic  rush 
into  a  store  on  Christmas  Eve  and  the 
reckless  purchase  of  something  red  for 
his  wife,  who  is  in  mourning;  a  pea- 
green  hat  for  his  sallow  daughter;  a 
manicure  set  in  a  pink  plush  case  for 
grandmother.  And  the  boys — "oh, 
hang  the  boys — give  them  each  a  five 
dollar  gold  piece,  and  take  them  to  the 
ball  game. ' '  God  bless  the  men  !  They 
try  their  very  best  to  develop  a  sense 
of  humor  in  us,  but  we  insist  in  weep 
ing  over  their  sins,  which  are  legion, 
when  we  might  be  laughing  over  their 
virtues.  There  is  a  particular  flavor 
about  unwise  gifts,  and,  while  I  dare 


G  I  V  E  R  S 


not  advocate  them  because  their  flavor 
is  lost  when  analyzed,  I  feel  very  chari 
tably  toward  them.  I  remember  a 
wealthy  friend  who  was  trying  to  think 
of  a  gift  for  a  poor  bed-ridden  paralytic 
—a  young  girl  not  suffering  for  the 
necessities  of  life,  but  robbed  of  most 
of  its  joys.  "I  believe  I  will  give  her 
a  ring  with  a  nice  jewel,"  she  said; 
"I'm  sure  if  I  had  to  lie  in  bed  all 
day  it  would  please  me  to  have  a 
ring  with  a  pretty  stone  in  it  to  look 
at."  Of  course,  it  is  your  duty  and 
mine  to  give  wisely  —  flannel  petticoats 
to  the  poor;  coarse  things  to  those 
who  never  have  anything  fine  in  all 
their  commonplace,  stunted  lives,  and 


G   I   F  T  S 


fine  things  to  those  who  are  surfeited 
with  fineness.  Of  course,  there  is  a 
common-sense  side  to  it.  Certainly  it 
is  foolish  to  cast  pearls  before  swine,  to 
give  to  the  unappreciative.  But,  never 
losing  sight  of  the  fact  that  the  object 
of  giving  is  to  make  others  happy,  it  is 
well  to  have  a  care  lest  we  emphasize 
by  our  gift  the  hard  part  of  life,  instead 
of  allaying  it.  What  do  you  really 
think  of  those  virtuous  people  who  say 
6  We  have  talked  the  matter  of  Christ 
mas  over  this  year  in  the  family,  and 
all  agreed  not  to  have  any.  The 
expense  of  Harry's  sickness  from  over 
taxing  himself  in  athletics,  and  Emily's 
prostration  from  devotion  to  physical 


GIVERS^ 


culture  lessons,  and  papa's  accident  with 
the  automobile,  and  my  reception, 
which  I  really  had  to  give  —  I  was  in 
debted  to  everybody  —  have  been  so  great 
that  we  have  all  agreed,  '  '  etc.  No  doubt 
you  think  as  I  do  that  this  is  very 
sensible  and  very  obnoxious.  Gener 
ally,  any  effort  to  suppress  Christmas 
springs  either  from  selfishness  or  laziness. 
There  is  always  somebody  to  be  made 
more  cheerful  and  there  is  nearly  always 
a  way  of  doing  it.  The  effort  of  finding 
the  way  is  not  always  easy,  but  the 
best  things  in  life  are  never  the  easiest. 
There  has  grown  up  among  us  too 
much  of  the  philanthropic  idea  in 
connection  with  the  holiday  festival. 


GIFTS 


People  need  joy  quite  as  much  as  cloth 
ing.  Some  of  them  need  it  far  more. 
Indeed,  I  often  think  those  who  have 
the  greatest  supply  of  things  have  the 
least  joy.  And  yet  we  go  on  adding 
to  their  responsibilities,  giving  them 
more  bric-a-brac  to  dust  and  care  for, 
when  what  they  really  need  is  a  lighter 
heart  to  make  the  dusting  and  caring 
for  what  they  already  have  more  endur 
able.  Perhaps  the  additional  bric-a- 
brac,  given  in  the  proper  spirit,  lightens 
the  heart  of  the  recipient.  Let  us  hope 
that  it  does.  I  once  asked  a  man  of 
exquisite  taste  what  he  did  with  the 
hopelessly  bad  things  that  were  given 
him  by  children  and  others?  "I  have 


a  closed  cabinet  for  them,'5  he  said, 
' '  and  I  like  to  go  and  look  at  them ; 
their  very  ugliness  is  pathetic  and  salu 
tary.  It  is  a  great  mistake  to  imagine 
we  must  display  things  because  they 
were  given  to  us.  The  careless  ob 
server  sees  only  the  bad  taste.  We 
alone  know  all  the  kindliness,  the  love 
and  self-sacrifice  that  went  into  the 
effort  to  give  us  pleasure.  Such  gifts 
are  sacred,  and  I  keep  them  in  my 
holy  of  holies. ' '  We  might  properly 
take  as  a  rule  for  Christmas  giving 
William  Morris's  directions  for  house  - 
furnishing,  "Never  place  anything  in 
your  house  that  you  do  not  know  to  be 
useful  or  believe  to  be  beautiful."  Try 


G  I  F  T  S 


not  to  contribute  to  next  year's  bon-fire. 
Originality  is  always  delightful.  Some 
one  gave  me  one  Christmas  a  dozen 
scratch-books  and  a  package  of  good 
soft  lead  pencils.  The  memory  of  that 
gift  lingers  yet.  It  has  been  a  source 
of  endless  joy  to  me  and  of  sorrow  to 
others.  I  am  writing  this  sermon  in 
one  of  those  scratch-books.  But  all 
these  instructions  and  admonitions 
concerning  giving  are  superfluous.  Most 
of  us  think  too  much  of  how  to  bestow 
gracefully  and  too  little  of  the  grace  of 
acceptance.  The  manner  of  receiving 
a  gift  certainly  tells  as  nothing  else  can 
the  real  nature  of  the  recipient.  There 
is  a  subtle  selfishness  in  refusing  to  be 


GIVERS  «« 

made  glad  by  the  efforts  of  others— in 
wishing  to  monopolize  the  blessedness 
of  giving.  Assuredly  it  is  more  blessed 
than  receiving,  but  someone  must 
receive  else  none  may  give.  "Polite 
ness,"  it  has  been  said,  "is  imagination 
enough  to  put  yourself  in  another's 
place  and  sense  enough  to  know  how 
you  would  like  to  be  treated. ' '  Em 
barrassment  on  receipt  of  a  gift  too 
often  arises  from  a  covert  self-esteem, 
which  protest  against  'being  under 
obligation,"  as  we  say.  But  a  gift 
properly  given  engenders  no  obligation 
but  gratitude.  It  is  given  to  make  us 
happy,  and  if  we  wish  to  make  proper 
return,  we  must  make  it  by  being 


<^    GIFTS 


happy— there  is  no  other  way.  But 
all  gifts  are  not  properly  given,  you  tell 
me.  Very  well ;  let  us  imagine  that  they 
are  and  thus  put  an  end  to  the  traffic. 
Yours  and  mine  are,  at  least,  and  any 
suspicion  of  others  is  beneath  us. 
Perhaps  nothing  measures  more  accu 
rately  the  height  and  depth  of  a  human 
soul,  anyway,  than  the  willingness  to  be 
:< under  obligation."  He  who  thinks 
himself  able  to  stand  alone  is  of  all  men 
most  arrogant.  We  are  all  held  in  place 
by  the  pressure  of  the  crowd  around  us. 
We  must  all  lean  upon  others.  Let  us 
see  that  we  lean  gracefully  and  freely 
acknowledge  their  support.  Of  course 
one  can  be  too  frank,  even  in  the  expres- 


sion  of  gratitude.  I  remember  a  good 
old  negro  woman  who  said  upon  receipt 
of  a  trifling  gift  from  her  employer, 

''It's  mighty  kind  of  you,  Mrs.  K , 

and  I'm  sho'  I  don't  see  why  you  has  the 
reputation  of  bein'  such  a  powerful  close 
lady.  You's  always  been  very  kind  to 
me."  We  are  all  eager  to  simplify 
our  lives  and,  as  usual,  we  all  begin  at 
the  wrong  end.  To  many  simplicity 
means  crudeness,  which  is  a  grievous 
blunder.  There  is  all  the  difference  in  the 
world  between  the  blunt  frankness  of  the 
undisciplined  child  and  the  simple  sin 
cerity  of  the  scholar.  One  is  the  absence 
of  all  that  makes  the  other  beautiful 
and  yet  both  are  in  their  way  delightful. 


GIFTS 


The  world  cannot  return  to  its  child 
hood.  We  really  do  not  desire  it.  There 
is  no  harm  in  many  of  the  complexities 
with  which  the  progress  of  civilization 
has  surrounded  us ;  the  harm  is  in  not 
preserving  a  simple  heart  toward  them, 
a  willingness  to  please  and  be  pleased. 
Simplicity  is  not  an  external  matter. 
I  know  a  ''society  woman'  who  has 
preserved  through  all  the  frivolity  of  her 
life  a  heart  as  limpid  as  a  child's.  She 
is  sweet,  healthy  and  wholesome  in 
her  foolishness.  She  enjoys  her  tink 
ling  cymbal  quite  as  sincerely  as  you 
enjoy  your  sounding  brass,  and  may 
heaven  smile  upon  her  as  she  smiles 
upon  her  family  and  her  friends.  It 


is  a  great  thing,  much  greater  than  we 
realize,  this  love  of  life.  "Gentleness 
and  cheerfulness,  these  come  before  all 
morality;  they  are  the  perfect  duties," 
says  the  man  whose  fame  rests  more 
largely  upon  those  virtues  than  upon 
any  work  he  has  done.  Indeed,  the 
doing  of  things  great  or  small  never  yet 
endeared  a  human  soul  to  other  human 
souls.  Duty,  conscience,  self-sacrifice, 
these  are  all  good  and  all  hard  task 
masters  ;  they  bring  respect  often  but 
never  affection.  We  may  not  greatly 
love  or  enjoy  life  ourselves  but  we  love 
the  man  or  woman  who  loves  it ;  we 
enjoy  the  man  or  woman  who  enjoys  it. 
Perhaps  this  shows  that  at  bottom  we 


GIFTS 


do  love  it— this  yearning  toward  those 
who  get  joy  out  of  it.  On  them  rests 
the  burden  of  life.  To  them  go  all  those 
who  are  weary  and  heavy  laden.  They 
are  the  springs  from  which  the  thirsty 
world  drinks,  and  the  pessimist  who 
hugs  himself  for  his  pessimism,  who 
boasts  of  all  his  indifferences,  is  all  the 
time  drawing  his  very  life  from  the  well 
of  their  good  cheer.  If  they  were  at 
any  time  to  turn  upon  life,  which  often 
wounds  them  cruelly ;  if  they  were  for 
one  moment  to  lose  heart,  the  blackness 
of  darkness  would  settle  upon  the  world. 
It  is  they  who  keep  alive  the  simple 
joys,  who  make  our  Christmases  and 
other  festivals,  and  we  who  are  not  for 


g»  G  I  V  E  R  S 


them  are  against  them.  It  is  not  they 
who  have  steeped  the  holiday  season  in 
worldliness  and  commercialism,  but 
those  of  us  who  refuse  to  be  pleased; 
who  croak  and  criticise  and  think  evil 
—and  it  is  high  time  we  set  about 
reforming  not  the  institution  but  our 
selves.  Some  things  we  can  all  give  : 
a  little  gladness  to  this  sorry  scheme  of 
things  (  which  is  after  all  just  what  we 
made  it  and  the  best  scheme  we  know, 
notwithstanding  our  constant  efforts  to 
vilify  it)  ;  a  few  cakes  and  a  little  ale  in 
spite  of  our  virtue  ;  one  day's  willing 
ness  to  be  made  happy  by  trifles  ;  one 
day's  sacrifice  of  our  superior  wisdom 
and  sense  of  justice  ;  one  day's  respite 


G  I  F  T  S 


from  reforming  the  world,  which  is  no 
doubt  in  a  very  bad  way  but  will  not 
suffer  irremediably  from  twenty  -four 
hours'  cessation  of  our  efforts;  one 
day's  attempt  to  make  ourselves  and 
our  neighbors  happy  instead  of  good  ; 
one  day  to  love  mercy  since  we  have  all 
the  rest  of  the  year  to  do  justice  and 
walk  humbly  with  our  God.  These 
things  we  can  all  give,  and  may  there 
be  someone  to  say  of  each  of  us,  '  '  She 
did  not  show  me  how  to  succeed,  but 
she  gave  me  courage  to  meet  failure 
with  a  light  heart. 


" 


.Y. 


RETURN  TO: 


CIRCULATION  DEPARTMENT 
198  Main  Stacks 


LOAN  PERIOD     1 
Home  Use 

2 

3 

4 

5 

6 

ALL  BOOKS  MAY  BE  RECALLED  AFTER  7  DAYS. 

Renewals  and  Recharges  may  be  made  4  days  prior  to  the  due  date. 
Books  may  be  renewed  by  calling  642-3405. 


DUE  AS  STAMPED  BELOW. 

SEtfTONILL 

1 

MAR  0  7  2001 

U.  C.  BERKELEY 

L 

1 

1 

f 

1 

R 

\ 

FORM  NO.  DD6                        UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA,  BERKELEY 
50M                                          Berkeley,  California  94720-6000 

-r  ™—                     -TT—  —  «!•  inr     ir  IBII      19HHF      ¥    "  « 

YC   16088 


m 


411468 


UNIVERSITY  OF  CAUFORNIA  LIBRARY 


